


To Live Another Day

by mwrgt



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Claire returns before it happens in canon, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:27:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 20,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27217894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mwrgt/pseuds/mwrgt
Summary: What if Frank’s car accident happened nineteen years before expected?
Relationships: Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser
Comments: 154
Kudos: 295





	1. Accident

**Author's Note:**

> What if a car accident happened nineteen years before expected?
> 
> How would it change things?

Chapter 1 - Accident   
  


“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ!” I murmured as I bumped my toe into the corner of the kitchen table while blindly looking for the bloody phone that was incessantly ringing.

Having jumped out of the bed to answer the damned machine as soon as it started ringing, and not really thinking about turning on any lights in the house, I was getting desperate to find the source of the upcoming noise.

“Whoever it is, unless you have a damned good reason to be calling in the middle of the night, I will to throttle you.” I said to as I finally,  _ finally _ found the phone and picked it up to answer it. “And if Brianna wakes up, I’ll going to freaking kill you.”

Brianna, at the age of 2 months-old, was usually a really good sleeper.  _ Usually _ , being the key word. 

She’d been extremely fussy for the past week, a diaper rash in her bum terribly bothering the poor thing, and barely got any sleep at all in the last couple of nights. And along with her lack of sleep came mine. 

Frank, of course, did try to help, offering to keep her with him in his office for the night. I sigh, as I recalled the evening’s events that ended up in a massive quarrel.

_ “Darling, maybe if she sleeps with me in the office you might get some sleep, after all.” He proposed as I rocked a screaming Brianna back and forth. _

_ “It’s really okay, Frank. She’ll probably wake up for a couple of feedings during the night, and I prefer not having to go to another room to get her then.” I replied, annoyed. I was tired, my hair was a mess, my shift smelled like breast milk, and it had been at least three days since the last time I had an opportunity to have a bath. I really wasn’t in the mood to discuss Brianna’s sleeping arrangements with Frank tonight. _

_ “Of course I’d bring her to you when it’s time for a feeding.” He countered, moving from his spot near the door to touch my arm. _

_ Trying to rock Brianna, who was finally starting to calm down to a gentle sob, I subtly slipped away from his touch. _

_ “It’s really okay, Frank. She will probably get stressed with all the going back and forth during the night. Then it’ll be even more difficult to get her settled.” _

_ Frank groaned. I knew he wanted the opportunity to spend time with Brianna. He was nothing but gentle and kind towards her since the moment she was born, but I still couldn’t bear leaving her out of my sight. My experiences with Black Jack Randall were still too fresh in my mind, and while I knew Frank was an entirely different person from his ancestor, I couldn’t bring myself to leave my daughter under his care yet. _

_ “Claire. Please let me help.” He reached to touch me again, this time managing to brush his hand against my shoulder, which involuntary made me flinch. _

_ He immediately recollected his hand, clearly upset. _

_ I knew very well that after over seven months of being back I still couldn’t bear his touch. He clearly hoped that after Brianna was born it would change. However, it didn’t. _

_ It wasn’t so much the resemblance to Black Jack as it was the painful fact that he wasn’t Jamie. Jamie, my beautiful redhead, so similar, I’m so many ways, to the beautiful little girl I had in my arms. Jamie, who would’ve been an amazing father, but wouldn’t ever get the chance to know his daughter. Jamie, who would endure anything to make sure his child was safe. Even the thought of another man raising her. _

_ Each day in this century was yet another reminder of what I’d lost. My love. My sweet highlander. All the people who had become family in Lallybroch. Home. _

_ As Brianna finally settled and started to get sleepy, I took a deep breath, inhaling that sweet and intoxicating baby smell, and feeling yet another pang in my chest over the fact that her Jamie would never get to experience this. He’d been an amazing uncle to wee Jamie, Maggie and Kitty. But um would never get to experience anything with his own daughter. _

_ “We do have a little thing called a bottle in this century, Claire.” Frank spat, breaking me out of my thoughts. _

_ Reading into my reactions to his touch and my negative responses to him keeping the baby for the night, Frank knew exactly the precise choice of words to hurt me. _

_ “I don’t care about bottles, and you know it, Frank.” I spat back. He couldn’t possibly see why I was so adamant in nursing Brianna myself, but that was something I chose to share with my daughter that I was not willing to give up. By coming back I’d given up way too much already. _

_ “No, you don’t.” He said dryly, rising his voice. “You only care about always keeping me at arms length, and honestly I’m sick of it! You won’t let me touch you, you won’t let me be anywhere near you! I thought it was the pregnancy, but now the baby is here and I still can’t get anything from my wife!” _

_ “You do realize I have an infant and a house to take care of, since it’s so important to show your coworkers an impeccable house, an impeccable wife without a single hair of our place and an impeccable child who is always happy, never cranky or crying.” I let out. “I’m sorry if I’m too overwhelmed and exhausted at the end of the day to want to have sex!” I hissed, careful not to wake the slumbering child in my arms. _

_ “If the only problem was you being tired, Claire! The problem is that you’re still living in the bloody 18th century with that bloody highlander of yours! A bloody highlander that abandoned you, pregnant, and sent you back to me! Imagine the irony!” He yelled furiously. “And you came back, I decided to take you back, and you promised to leave the past in the past, but it’s been like living with a ghost!” _

_ At that precise moment Brianna stirred, and immediately started crying again. _

_ “You bastard.” I didn’t know what angered me the most, Frank’s words or the fact that his lack of judgment in yelling near a sleeping baby had awakened Brianna. _

_ I shifted her in my arms and started rocking her again, in an unsuccessful attempt to get her to calm down. Trying to change the scenery, I started walking to the living room. Footsteps approached, showing Frank had followed. However, instead of coming in my direction, the footsteps continued to the other side of the room. _

_ “I need some air.” Was all he said as he retrieved his hat and slammed the front door after him._

“Who the bloody hell is this?” I angrily spoke into the phone, waiting for a reply. I groped for the light switch, turning it on at once.

The sudden lightness of the room made me blink, and I took a moment to lift my foot to check for the damage on my toe. Standing on one foot, I massaged the other, no apparent damage apart from a purplish bruise that was starting to appear.

“May I speak with Mrs. Randall, please?” A male voice on the line asked seriously. I wondered what on earth this was about.

Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I replied. “This is she.”

“Mrs. Randall, this is Dr. Joe Abernathy from Boston General Hospital. I’m afraid I need you to come to the hospital as soon as you can. There has been an a car accident with your husband, Frank Randall.”


	2. Motions

I knew only a minute had passed since I hung up the phone, but to me it felt like hours. Frank was involved with a car accident. Dr. Abernathy wouldn’t say, over the phone, the state my husband was in, but from his tone I could tell it was bad. He was probably seriously injured, or maybe even...

No, I wouldn’t let my thoughts wander in that direction. I loved Frank. A long time ago, I did love him. He was my first love. And even if I couldn’t have romantic feelings for him any longer, I cared about him. I knew he wasn’t a perfect man. His constant need for approval amongst his colleagues, his nagging towards intimacy with me, his hurtful words regarding the past three years of my life before coming back. Those were things that deeply upset me. But he did accept me back into his life, even after three years missing and pregnant with another man’s child. Like Jamie had hoped he’d do.

I needed to sort things out. I shook myself out my stupor, trying to force myself into action.

Apart from the kitchen, the rest of the house remained emerged in darkness and silence (thank goodness Brianna wasn’t awakened by the phone).

I removed myself from the spot where I stood by the wall near the cabinet. Taking another deep breath, I forced my legs to move towards the living room, turning on its light as I passed through the switch on the wall.

Climbing the stairs, I walked straight to my room and blindly rummaged through the closet, looking for the first warm thing that came into contact with my hands.

I decided not to fetch Brianna until I absolutely had to. I knew the moment she was removed from her cot she would wake. She wasn’t usually such a light sleeper, but fussy as she’d been for the past week, she would wake up from the tiniest noise screaming bloody murder.

I found a knee length skirt and an old blouse that fit me reasonably. I couldn’t care less about color schemes right at the moment. After only two months of giving birth I still didn’t go back to my original shape.

I got dressed quickly and found a warm scarf to put around my neck to protect me from the cold Boston night. It was the middle of January and the nights weren’t anywhere near getting warmer.

After getting dressed, I decided not to waste time dealing with my messy hair. I needed to get to the hospital, and making my hair even slightly presentable was not on my list of priorities.

I went to the other other side of the room to check on Brianna to see she was still sleeping. Quickly going downstairs to get my coat, I put it on and looked for my purse. It was on the hanger.

I knew I had some money inside the purse, so the only difficulty would be getting a cab at this hour.

I went to the kitchen and got the many pamphlets sitting on the counter. One of them had to be of a cab service, and hopefully, one that would have a car available at this hour.

After calling six different companies, I finally managed to find someone who could come and pick us up. I gave them the address and put the phone down.

The only thing left was getting Brianna.

Since moving to Boston we did make a few acquaintances, but none we felt comfortable enough to babysit.

Obviously a hospital was no place for a 2 month-old infant, but I had no other choice other than bringing her with me. I wouldn’t leave her alone in the house.

I climbed the wooden steps of the staircase and walked into the half dark bedroom, going straight for Brianna’s cot. She was sleeping soundly, the first time in days. It felt awful to pick her up. But again, I was absolutely not leaving her alone in the house, specially when I had no idea for how long I’d need to stay in the hospital.

I observed the mop of red hair in my daughter’s hair for a moment.

“You’re so much like your father.” I whispered with a melancholic sigh. Before motioning to pick her up, I very gently brushed the back of my hand against her cheek, and was amazed, once more, as she unconsciously smiled. 

“I’m sorry, darling, but we need to go.” I murmured gently as I finally reached inside the cot to pick her up. 

As I expected, she immediately stirred and made a complaining noise, but by some miracle didn’t cry. I snuggled her closer and rocked her gently, trying to get her to go back to sleep. Her little body felt warm in my arms, her overalls keeping her cozy.

Her breath evened out pretty quickly, and she was back into dreamland.

I fetched a thick blanket from a drawer by the cot and wrapped Brianna in it. 

Holding the baby close to my chest I slowly walked down the stairs. 

As I approached the door I could hear a car stoping in front of the house. Pulling a curtain to the side of the window, a could see the cab had arrived. I put on my shoes, holding Brianne with one arm, grabbed my purse and opened the door.

* * *

The drive to the hospital was a silent one. Brianna was still soundly asleep, and the motion of the car lulled her to remain that way.

I approached a nurses’ station, asking for Dr. Abernathy.

“Mrs. Randall?” A voice from behind startled me.

I turned around to see a gentle looking male doctor in scrubs about four feet from where I stood with Brianna.

“I’m Claire Randall.” I answered. “I’m sorry for taking so long, it took me forever to manage to find a cab.”

I took a second to think of how I must look from his perspective. A woman with disheveled hair holding a child in a hospital in the middle of the night.

“Don’t worry about it.” He said kindly. “I’m Dr. Joe Abernathy, I’m the one who called you. Would you accompany me?” He motioned with his arm towards a room with green curtains covering all the windows. 

The room was badly illuminated, small, and had two dark brown armchairs, one in front of the other. It smelled like disinfectant. 

Dr. Abernathy closed the door behind him and motioned for me to sit on the closest armchair. I sat and shifted Brianna closer to my chest. She made a small noise, but still didn’t wake. Small miracles. I noticed a painting of three deers jumping in the heather on the wall behind the other armchair.

The doctor sat in the armchair in front of mine and took a deep breath.

“I am deeply, terribly sorry, Mrs. Randall. As I told you on the phone, your husband Frank had a car accident a few hours earlier.” He started.

I looked in his eyes. As a nurse, I knew what was coming next. His tone of voice, the need for a more secluded space, everything pointed towards only one path. I felt a lump in my throat.

“He was still breathing in the ambulance, and the paramedics were able to stabilize his heart.”

He paused and reached his hand to touch my arm.

“When they were a few blocks away from the hospital, though, Frank went into cardiac arrest. The paramedics did everything they could to resuscitate him. Unfortunately, he didn’t come back. He died on the way here. I am very sorry for your loss.”

Tears started escaping my eyes. 

“Would you like to see him?” Dr. Abernathy asked.

I knew his body might be damaged. I knew he wasn’t coming back. But I needed to say what I had to say. Frank deserved it.

Then I looked at Brianna. I couldn’t possibly see Frank with Brianna in tow. Even if she remained sleeping, I didn’t feel comfortable bringing her to see the kind man who would’ve raised her like that. I knew Frank wouldn’t want that.

I looked at baby in my arms then at Dr. Abernathy.

“I-I can’t leave her...”

“I have children at home.” He interrupted. “I can see she’s sleeping, so if you’re okay with it, I can take her for a while.”

“Are you sure? I couldn’t possibly impose.” I said, almost giving in. 

“Don’t worry about it. Take all the time you need”.

* * *

I left Brianna with Dr. Abernathy and stood right outside the room where Frank was.

Reaching for the door, I took a deep breath and opened it, walking into a rectangular room, similar to any regular hospital room. Excepts where there was supposed to be a regular bed, there was a metal one.

Frank was lying on the metal bed, a white sheet covering his body. 

I removed part of the sheet that was covering his torso so I could take one last look at his face. 

There wasn’t any visible damage to his body. Looking at him, it appeared Frank was peacefully sleeping.

Sitting one the chair beside the metal bed, I kissed his chest.

“I’m sorry, Frank.” I spoke, tears flowing through my eyes.

I touched his face, still a little warm to the touch, and caressed his cheek.

“If you’re still close enough to hear me...” I paused, thinking of what I needed him to know.

“I did love you.” I said, staring at his face and touching his forehead. “Very much.”

I did love him. That kind, obstinate historian who was always so passionate to know every piece of information surrounding that bloody Jacobite rising. That funny man, who I knew had also loved me deeply.

“You were my first love.” I lowered my body to kiss his lips one last time, my tears dampening his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. I didn’t think I’d have this second chapter so soon, but I’m glad I did.
> 
> To those who took the time to comment, thank you so much, it means a lot.


	3. The First Man in the Moon

The first two weeks after Frank’s passing were a blur.

After retrieving a shrieking Brianna from Dr. Abernathy’s arms - stranger danger was something real with that girl, I’d tell you that. Apparently, the moment she woke and found herself in unfamiliar’s arms, she started screaming - the kind doctor offered to help with funeral arrangements and whatever else I needed.

The funeral was a simple service, attended mostly by scholars, me, and Dr. Abernathy - who insisted on being called Joe. He stood by my side through the whole thing, without a care for all the dirty looks people kept giving him for being the only black person in the vicinity.

* * *

“Hello, miss Brianna!” Joe greeted as he came through the door with Gail, his wife, two weeks after the funeral, earning a smile from the baby in my arms.

Joe and Gail were turning out to be great friends after coming by nearly every other day to help with the simplest things, like bringing something to eat, helping with Brianna or just keeping us company.

Of course, helping with Brianna was more of an excuse for them to come over than a real motive. Not that I was complaining, though. Brianna, frightened of any unfamiliar face, was just starting to warm up to them, giving Joe a smile when he interacted with her and even giggling when Gail blew raspberries on her tummy one afternoon. But she still wouldn’t have any of them picking her up, crying her heart out whenever one of them tried.

“Please come in, the both of you.” I welcomed them with a smile. “It’s nice seeing you again.”

“The pleasure is ours, Lady Jane.”

I laughed at the nickname Joe had picked a week ago.

“How is the little lady today?” Gail asked, pointing with her head towards Brianna.

“She’s doing great. Finally back to sleeping through the night.” I said with a smile, placing Brianna on her tummy on the mat at our feet as we sat on the couch.

After a couple of very fussy nights, she was back to being the good sleeper she was. I honestly couldn’t help thinking just how lucky I was by having a baby who, at 3 months-old, could sleep so well.

We talked about all trivial things related to the Brianna. Joe and Gail were trying for a baby, and were truly enthusiastic over every little mundane thing regarding Bree’s development.

I turned on the television, providing a distraction for Joe and Gail, and left for the bathroom to take a welcomed bath. Brianna was sound asleep on the mat, and I knew they would keep an eye on her.

* * *

As I soaked in the warm water, I couldn’t help but wonder about the turn of events in my life.

The days after Frank’s passing were occupied with funeral arrangements, lawyer visits, keeping Brianna fed and clean, and the joyful visits of the Abernathys.

But now I couldn’t keep my throughs from wandering to what I would do next.

I knew I could be satisfied living here. Everything Frank had owned had passed to my name, and adding the money I still had from uncle Lamb, I had a suitable amount that could keep Brianna and I living comfortably for the next couple of decades.

But would that be enough? Raising my daughter, maybe going back to being a nurse. Perhaps even adventuring myself into pursuing a medical career. A few universities were accepting women into courses like medicine and law school. So why not?

I felt a pang in my heart as I thought about what I wanted to do, though.

I knew fairly well what I _wanted_ to do. Going back to Jamie. Introducing him to his child, our daughter, the beautiful baby we’d made together out of love.

I didn’t know, for sure, that Jamie had died at Culloden. But I did know that the chances of him having survived were slim.

I’d promised Frank I would stop looking for him. I’d promised that I wouldn’t keep searching for him in every book about the Jacobite rebellion available.

But then, Frank was dead. I couldn’t be guilty of breaking a promise to a man that was no longer here.

But what about Brianna? Would it be fair to her for me to spend day after day looking for a man I knew there was every chance in the world was not even alive?

* * *

As I walked downstairs I could hear the TV on and, by the sound of it, Brianna still asleep.

Joe and Gail were concentrated watching something on the TV, sitting side by side, Joe’s hand rubbing lazy circles on his wife’s shoulder.

“Hey, LJ!” Joe exclaimed as I joined them on the couch. “Take a look at this! They say they’re planning on sending man to the moon within the next two decades.”

“Really?” I snorted. There’d been all talks of space travel, and it would probably be yet another rumor without any real plans of it really happening anytime in the future.

“Yes. But this time it’s for real.” Joe replied seriously. “Watch for yourself.”

A newsman was interviewing several people who were working on engineering and all kinds of blueprints for the construction of a space shuttle that could safely land on the moon. They kept specifying the training the people who would travel would go through, the astronauts, they called them.

Brianna stirred, waking from her nap, in time for her afternoon feeding.

I picked her up, and opening the first buttons of my blouse, freed my right breast and offered it to her. She rooted for a second, and finding her food source, happily latched on.

I didn’t have any ceremony about feeding Brianna around Gail and Joe. The first time she needed a feeding in their presence I started to excuse myself to nurse her in the bedroom, to which they immediately dismissed me, saying breastfeeding was a natural thing and I shouldn’t feel the need to hide.

The newsman was now talking to a director of the project, who was explaining the life changing experience it would be for the first man who got the honor of stepping on the moon. A mark in our civilization, he’d stated.

“How do you take a trip like that and come back to life as you knew it?” Joe wondered aloud, with a serious expression on his face.

I had been, in many ways, farther than the moon, on an even more impossible journey. And the answer was _“yes”_ , you could come back to your life. But it’d never be the same.

But maybe it was enough to have gone once. How many people could say they’d had that?

But having the chance to go back, could I honestly say I was could happy staying where I was?

Deep down, I knew I couldn’t. 

* * *

As I went to bed that night, my thoughts were restless, and my heart was beating loudly inside my chest.

Joe’s words about the first man that might step on the moon stirred a restlessness inside me I knew I couldn’t ignore.

_ “How do you take a trip like that and come back to life as you knew it?” _

You don’t. I knew I couldn’t. I’d been only fooling myself thinking I could.

I needed to know what had happened to Jamie. And even if he’d died at Culloden, I had more in the 18th century than I’d ever had here. Lallybroch. Jenny, Ian, the children. All those people who came to occupy such an important space in my heart. Fergus, that sweet french boy I’d come to love as a son. And maybe, just maybe, Jamie might’ve lived.

But even if he didn’t I knew Jenny and Ian would happily welcome Brianna and I into their lives. They were family. They would love Brianna, and she would grow surrounded by love.

I had a restless sleep, and by the time the sun started to rise, I was certain of one thing.

I had to go back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, they are going back!
> 
> But what are they going to find?
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	4. The Fifth Soldier

It had been two weeks after that determining Joe and Gail’s visit that had preceded my decision of coming back to Scotland.

February was almost at its end. Brianna, only a few days shy of turning 3 months-old, was growing fast, and with new each day, reaching new milestones.

If she was laying on her tummy, she would raise her head curiously whenever she heard the tiniest noise, supporting her upper body with her little arms.

She also started cooing a lot, engaging in history’s most interesting monologues. Although she was born in the States, that one was a Scot through and through. And like most Scots, a natural story teller.

After reaching the decision to come back, I talked a lot with Joe and Gail. They knew I didn’t have any family in America, and supported wholeheartedly my intent on raising Brianna amongst family, even if it meant they both would rarely see us in the future.

I didn’t correct their assumption with the truth: that if things went accordingly, we would most likely never see each other again.

I never really had much in terms of belongings I wished to bring with me to Scotland. And although I had no need for money to get myself and Brianna to Inverness, considering the enormous sum from Frank’s passing and what I’d inherited from Lamb, I had no desire to leave behind any attachments to this period of time. And that meant selling the house.

I was talking to Joe and Gail about my decision of selling the house, and how I was considering selling it for whatever pride was necessary to make sure it sold quickly, when they shared a look between them and offered to buy the house themselves.

They made a point in offering a fair price, stating they’d been, actually, looking for a bigger place for quite a while now, with the decision of starting a family in the horizon.

It was, in the end, an easy and transaction. 

Hence, it was a matter of waiting for the paperwork of transferring the deed of the house to the Abernathys.

I’d decided to pack a light suitcase for me and Brianna, only bringing the basics with us to Scotland. I’d shipped a large box of Frank’s books in advance to Reverand Wakefield. He’d probably have a lot more use to them than I’d ever could.

I had packed a few clothes for the two of us, Brianna’s baby indispensable stuff, and a few pieces of jewelry I’d managed to find in antique shops that could be acceptable in an 18th century Scotland.

The day I’d made the decision to go back, I also gave a call to Mrs. Graham, telling her of my decision and letting her know I’d be coming to Inverness in the upcoming weeks. As expected, she was very supportive, even enthusiastic about it, and we spoke over the phone nearly every day making plans.

My original plan was to stay in Mrs. Baird’s, and taking about a week to go through antique shops in Edinburgh to get as many old coins as I could place my hands on. Then getting whatever supplies I’d be taking to Craigh na Dun with me.

From my previous experiences through the stones, whatever belongings I could carry would be able to make the journey with me. Also, considering the last time I went through I was already pregnant with Brianna, I assumed she could also travel through them. Mrs. Graham seemed to agree with my theory.

I knew I wouldn’t be able to carry much, specially since my main concern was holding firmly on to Brianna, but I had a few things I though could be useful in the past.

I’d planned on finding a dress that could pass for the 18th century in Inverness, and sewing as many hidden pockets as I could without it getting suspicious. Than filling those with old coins, some jewelry and medical supplies. Joe had been a great help with that.

I couldn’t possibly tell Joe what exactly I was doing, since he would definitely think me mad. I did, however, tell him the place I was going in Scotland was a small village outside Inverness that had hardly any access to medical resources. He then had offered to put together a small kit of medical items I could use in an emergency, to which I was extremely grateful.

Said small kit, though, was anything but small. Joe managed, who knew how, to sneak in several vials of penicillin, a couple of hypodermic syringes, and even a few doses of basic vaccines into a bag the size of a football. When I pulled that last item from the bag, raising an eyebrow, Joe just said that I should use those as need rose, stating matter of factly that if there were anyone in need of inoculations, specially if they were children, those would come in handy.

I said goodbye to Joe and Gail with tears in my eyes. Even Brianna, sensing the atmosphere, allowed the two of them each to have a cuddle with her before we got in the taxi that would drive us to the airport.

Joe had, of course, offered to drive us to the airport himself. I politely refused, though, insisting I preferred saying our goodbyes in the piece of the place he now called home with his wife.

The flight to Edinburgh was an uneventful one. Despite crying her heart out during takeoff and landing and earning us several glares from people in the seatings nearby, Brianna behaved like a trooper throughout the flight, only fussing a little when she was due for a feeding. Even though I produced from the carry-on bag a small blanket to cover my breast, I still earned, again, several glares from neighboring passengers. Why people were so skittish of a child being nursed was beyond me.

We arrived in Edinburgh around 6:00 pm.

After reclaiming the luggage, I went straight to the exiting area, hoping to find a cab and arriving sooner rather than later at Mrs. Baird’s for a well deserved night of sleep in a real bed.

However, there was a surprise awaiting us right outside the exiting doors.

“Mrs. Graham!” I exclaimed joyfully the moment I saw her on the sidewalk as I went through the glass doors of the airport. “I thought we would meet at Mrs. Baird’s tomorrow!”

“Nonsense, dear Claire!” She retorted with a smile. “Also, yer not going to Mrs. Baird. I talked to the Reverend you’d be coming along and he insisted yer to stay at the manse. I already prepared a room for ye.”

“It is so kind of him. But I couldn’t possibly impose.” I hesitated.

“Claire, yer anything but imposing.” She replied with a gentle tone in her voice. “Also, the Reverend won’t be in town for the next two weeks. He went to London, taking wee Roger to see the museums on an unofficial vacation, ye see.” She said matter of factly.

“Okay, then, but only if it’s really no trouble.”

She responded with a good humored “hmph”.

“So this beauty is the wee lassie?” She changed the subject, motioning towards Brianna, who was quietly observing the exchange with the unfamiliar face of Mrs. Graham from her spot against my chest.

“This is Brianna Ellen. Can you say hello to Mrs. Graham, lovey?” I held Brianna’s little fist and waved it gently towards Mrs. Graham. The baby stared and made a cooing noise, as if responding to the introduction.

“Hello miss Brianna, it is a pleasure to meet ye.” Mrs. Graham waved back with a grin, to which Brianna immediately smiled back. “She’s a precious one, yer wee lass. Just look at all that red hair!”

“She takes a lot after Jamie. The hair, the cat like eyes, and most prominent than all, the stubbornness.” I laughed.

Mrs. Graham laughed along and motioned for us to walk towards her car.

Arriving at the manse, Brianna was out like a light. After settling her in the portable cot Mrs. Graham had borrowed from her daughter in the guest room, we went downstairs.

“Tea?” Mrs. Graham offered.

“I think I need something stronger than tea.” I replied with a sigh.

“I ken the past few weeks must’ve been truly exhausting for ye.” She said sympathetically.

“They were.” I sighed again. With all the emotions combined, Frank’s death, the decision to come back to Scotland and all the preparations necessary to come and, subsequently, go back through the stones, everything was bound to come crashing down on me like eventually.

Mrs. Graham put the kettle on the stove and motioned for me to feel free to get a glass of whisky on the living room. I grabbed a glass on the round table by the corner of the room and filling half of it, sat on the couch near the hearth. I noticed Mrs. Graham entering the Reverend’s office and by the sound of it, rummaging through papers, then emerging with a large paper envelope.

“The Reverend was just about sending these to yer late husband when came news of his passing.” She started, handing me the envelope and sitting next to me on the couch. “Before going to London the Reverend never specified ye should have it, but he didn’t specify ye shouldn’t have it either.”

“What is it?” I frowned, staring at the envelope now sitting in my lap and lightly running my hand through its surface.

I opened the envelope and pulled its contents, spreading several sheets of what was clearly several photocopied old documents along the center table in front of us.

“Apparently the Reverend was doing some research on yer late husband’s behalf.” Mrs. Graham started in a quiet voice.

I started rummaging through the papers, not really making sense of what any of it was about. Then I froze as a name called my attention.

_ Master of Lovat. _

There was no way the name was there by coincidence.

“What on earth is this about?” I wondered out loud.

Mrs. Graham put her warm hand over mine, and once I raised my head to look at her, proceeded to offer farther explanation.

“After the battle at Culloden, a few Jacobite soldiers, all seriously wounded, took refuge in an old house for two days, then they were all taken out to be shot.”

I inhaled sharply.

“But one of them,” she gently squeezed my hand and continued, “a Fraser of the Master of Lovat’s regiment, escaped execution.”

“There were a lot of Frasers on the field that day.” I interrupted, not wanting to allow myself to hope, already with tears pooling in my eyes by the memory of that fateful day.

“Aye. But only five Frasers officers, and four of them have their names memorialized on a plaque in the church in Beauly.” She continued. “We know for certain that they were killed.”

My heart gave a lurch in my chest by this point, and the tears started escaping one by one.

“Who was the fifth?” I asked, my voice choked.

“James Fraser.”

“Jamie?” I inquired, my tears flowing freely now. “He lived?”

“Yer highlander certainly meant to die, Claire.” She paused, giving my hand another squeeze. “But he didn’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jamie survived!


	5. The Man in the Woods

“This is getting so frustrating.” I groaned for the umpteenth time as I rummaged once more through the many documents scattered in front of me on the coffee table.

Mrs. Graham and I had been going through all kinds of documents for the past two days, looking for any clue as to how I could locate Jamie once I travelled through the stones with Brianna.

We’d been searching for anything, _anything at all_ that might offer any indicators. Prison rolls, documents of release, ship manifests, but so far all of those came empty handed.

“We’ve been through these documents twice, and nothing! Absolutely nothing about him!” I exclaimed on the brink of tears.

Mrs. Graham, who was standing behind me, put a hand on my shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Claire, we ken he lived. That’s the most important thing. Try to think of that.” She spoke in a calm voice.

“I know, and I’m happy Jamie. But not knowing how to find him is driving me mad!” I nearly shouted, placing the cup I was holding in my left hand on the coffee table with a loud thump.

At that precise moment, a loud whimper came from the guest room. Brianna, who was taking her afternoon nap, was probably awakened by the noise.

I motioned to stand up to get the baby, only to have Mrs. Graham pressing slightly on my shoulder for me to keep sitting down.

“I’ll get her fer ye.” She said, immediately turning around towards the guest room. “You go to the kitchen and get yerself another cup of tea.”

“Thank you.” I took a deep breath as Mrs. Graham’s footsteps faded.

I was halfway through the kitchen when a piercing scream, followed by a loud wail, made me lean against the wall and breath deeply.

I quickly realized my mistake. These two days of looking for Jamie’s whereabouts after Culloden had been so exhausting that it’d slipped my mind, for a second, that Brianna still hadn’t warmed up to Mrs. Graham enough to have the older woman holding her without a fuss.

Being absorbed in the research, Mrs. Graham had made many attempts of helping with Brianna, either by changing a diaper or trying to hold her when she got fussy, only to have all those attempts turning into loud sessions of screaming by the said infant.

Ii turned around, forgoing the tea, and walked back to the living room, where Brianna’s loud wails could be heard even louder. 

“Dinna worry, lass, yer Ma is just about the corner.” I could hear as Mrs. Graham tried to sooth the baby, only to be responded with another scream.

“Hey lovey, it’s alright.” I spoke softly, trying to calm a very angry Brianna as she flailed her little arms and legs in my direction, her face wet with tears.

“Still having trouble dealing with anyone but her Ma, I believe.” Mrs. Graham said in sympathy over the baby’s cries, bringing her to me.

I picked Brianna in my arms and moved near the window, rocking her gently. After a few minutes, her screams turned into a quiet sob.

“See, sweetheart, there’s nothing wrong. Mrs. Graham is just trying to help.” I said gently, shifting Brianna in my arms so she could face Mrs. Graham.

Noticing the cause of her distress right in front of her, she gave another dramatic sob, making a point to turn her little body to the other side.

“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ.” I hissed. “The more she grows the more temperamental she gets. I’m really not looking forward to her teenage days.”

“Thank goodness those are still far ahead.” Mrs. Graham chuckled.

* * *

After another two days, we still didn’t make any progress on finding Jamie. Mrs. Graham and I went through several books, documents and even legends about the years after Culloden.

Rummaging through yet another stack of photocopied documents, I suddenly came upon what looked like a brochure of some kind.

It was in fact a wanted person’s brochure. Red Jamie, Dead or Alive, it read. A shiver ran down my spine.

Again, Jamie had a prize on his head, this time for his crimes of treason against the crown during the uprising.

Upon paying more attention to the drawing below the title, I gasped loudly, confirming what the text above was saying.

It was a rough drawing, the hair completely disheveled, the face dirty and a rough stubble of having gone days without shaving, but it was clearly Jamie.

It was dated 1747.

“I found him.” I whispered to myself.

“What is it, dear?” Mrs. Graham, who was quietly flipping through several pages of transported prisoners, asked.

“I found him.” I spoke a bit louder, handing her the brochure. “Jamie.”

She took the photocopy in her hands, reading carefully.

“He is a wanted man, but this proves Jamie is still alive after a year of Culloden.” I spoke with relief.

Jamie had been a wanted man before. It was not easy beeing on the run, but I would gladly spend the rest of my days hiding in a hole with him if it meant having him by my side. I was one hundred percent sure Jenny and Ian would gladly help with Brianna, even to the point of regarding her as a Murray if necessary to make sure she was safe from any possible interrogations conducted by redcoats.

Knowing for sure that Jamie was still alive a year after Culloden gave me a new breath to keep looking.

I knew I could travel through the stones and look for Jamie while already in the 18th century. However, I also knew how difficult it was to find someone on that time, having had the experience of looking for Jamie before he was held captive in Wentworth Prison.

This time I would also have a child in tow. Despite being certain I could count on the Murrays to keep Brianna safe, if needed, I had no intention of being separate from my daughter.

Knowing that Jamie, again, had a prize on his head, I started thinking about what could happen after I found him.

Maybe we could get the money I’d be bringing with me and secure a ship to France, or maybe even to the Colonies in America to start a new life. Despite Jamie’s severe seasickness, I was certain it was nothing compared to the power of the modern antiemetic meds I intended on bringing with me.

After another several hours looking into more books and documents, I stumbled across a legend that caught my attention.

It was an extract from a book of Highland legends; an entry headed _Leap O’ the Cask_.

From everything I’d learned of history with Frank and Reverend Wakefield, so far as the Scottish Highlands would go, most of the history was oral up to the mid-nineteenth century or so. That meant there wasn’t a great distinction made between stories about real people, stories of historical figures, and the stories about mythical things like water horses and ghosts and the doings of the Auld Folk.

Scholars who wrote the stories down often didn’t know for sure which they were dealing with, either - sometimes it was a combination of fact and myth, and sometimes you could tell that it was a real historical occurrence being described.

The one I was staring at, for instance, was describing the story behind the name of a particular rock formation in the Highlands.

_Leap O’ the Cask_ , it read.

_This unusual formation, located some distance above a burn, is named after the story of a Jacobite laird and his servant. The laird, one of the few fortunates to escape the disaster of Culloden, made his way with difficulty to his home, but was compelled to lie hidden in a cave in his lands while the English hunted the Highlands for the fugitive supporters of Charles Stuart._

Obviously, the written words could be describing a number of people I’d known. However, it was the next paragraph that made me sure that it was about Jamie.

_ The laird’s tenants loyally kept his presence a secret, and brought food and supplies to the laird in his hiding place. They were careful always to refer to the hidden man only as the Dunbonnet, which was a reference to a dull brown hat he wore all the time, avoiding having his red hair recognized by English patrols who frequently crossed the area. _

The extract continued.   
  
_One day, a boy bringing a cask of ale up the trail to the laird’s cave met a group of English dragoons. Bravely refusing either to answer the soldiers’ questions, or to give up his burden, the boy was attacked by one of the dragoons, and dropped the cask, which bounded down the steep hill, and into the burn below._

My throat got constricted as I read the last part of the extract. The boy aforementioned could very easily be Rabbie McNabb, the sweet stable boy, or Fergus, the sweet French boy I’d grown to love like a son.

While I had no doubt over the fact the Dunbonnet was, indeed, Jamie, my stomach churned by thinking it meant my husband was, currently, living in a cave.

Since discovering he was alive, I was aware of the fact Jamie was, very likely, a wanted man. I thought I’d been prepared to it. But still, having the knowledge for sure, was something else entirely.

* * *

Ever since finding out about the Dunbonnet a week before, I had decided I was done with researching and started to actually make preparations for the journey through Craigh na Dun.

Mrs. Graham had offered to go to Edinburgh and look for old coins in a couple of antique shops and coin dealers she knew in the area. Also, she insisted on sewing hidden pockets herself on the Jessica Guttenburgs dress I had found in a store in Inverness.

It’d taken some digging, but I’d managed to find a rack that promised to _capture the charm of theeighteenth century_.

A few dresses were unsuitable, but one was almost perfect. Floor-length, with three-quarter sleeves edged with lace. A deep, tawny gold, with shimmers of brown and amber and sherry in the heavy silk.

The only downside was the zippers. However, Mrs. Graham assured me she could easily remove those and saw laces in their place.

“Two golden guineas, six sovereigns, twenty-three shillings, eighteen eighteen florins ninepence, ten halfpence, and... twelve farthings.” Mrs. Graham dropped the last coin on the tinkling pile.

It’d taken her two antique shops and a couple of coin dealers to assemble the small fortune that now stood in front of me.

“You know, it’s funny; these coins are worth a lot more now than their face value,” I said, picking up a golden guinea, “but in terms of what they’ll buy, they were worth then just about as much as now. This is six months’ income for a small farmer.”

* * *

We were standing by the car at the foot of the hill. The morning air was cold and misty, and I felt relief at having swaddled Brianna in a warm blanket before leaving the Reverend’s house.

Mrs. Graham had not only fulfilled her promise to sew hidden pockets in the Jessica Guttenburgs I was wearing and laces according to the 18th century attire, but had also sewed, by hand, appropriate clothing for Brianna.

“Are ye sure ye don’t want me to go up there with ye, Claire?” Mrs. Graham asked as she rearranged the blanket to cover Brianna’s feet, leaving them not only in her woolen socks, but also inside the warmth of the blanket.

Despite being still dark, Brianna was wide awake in my arms, held close against my chest to protect her from the cold, and looked at everything around her with curiosity in her eyes.

“No.” I swallowed.

I’d given much thought on how I wanted to go through the stones. The first time I went through, I’d been terrified. The second, heartbroken. This time I just wanted it to be peaceful, focusing on holding Brianna close and finding Jamie.

“I wanted to thank you,” I started, my voice breaking in the end.

“There’s nothing fer ye to thank me, lass.” Mrs. Graham interrupted, touching my left hand while I held Brianna. “I hope ye can find yer Jamie. And be happy with him.”

I took a step forward and gave her a tight hug, which she immediately reciprocated.

“And you, wee lass,” she took a step back and smiled at Brianna, “be good fer yer mum and da.” She gently caressed her cheek, earning a gummy smile from the baby.

Granite pebbles rolled beneath my feet as I started the climb uphill.

Panic started to rush through my veins with each step forward. The thought of going through the stones, along with Bree, started to make me dizzy. 

_Jamie_ , I thought, trying to concentrate on why I was doing this in the first place.

He’d deserved to meet his daughter, and she’d deserved to be raised by her father.

But under what circumstances?

With each step forward I could sense more strongly the pull of the stones above. Brianna started to get restless. She was probably being affected as well.

Screaming, chaos, the feeling of being torn in pieces. Could I really go through that again?

I forced my feet to move one step in front of the other. Brianna, getting more restless by the minute, started to complain, whining loudly.

A deep breath. Another step. I could already hear, even if just faintly, the buzzing of the circle above.

It was full dawn by the time I reached the top of the hill. The stones stood imponent and dark against the clear sky. 

Apprehension and dread filled each cell of my body.

I kept going forward, even when each step weighted like a ton. The buzzing was getting louder by the second. Brianna started to wail loudly, rubbing her chubby hands against her ears, clearly bothered by it.

We were only a few feet away from the tallest stone.

As I reached forward, I couldn’t help wondering about what would expect us on the other side. My mind travelled to the first time I’d gone through, remembering, clear as day, the first time I met Jamie.

How was it fair that he didn’t get to see his child being born? She first time she opened her eyes, her first smile. Thankfully Brianna was still small enough that Jamie would get to see many firsts. If he could be there.

A vision of a cave, in the middle of the Highlands, filled my mind. How was it fair that after a year apart we still would have to face so many hardships in front of us?

For a second, I wished, somehow, that we could have the chance to start over and do things differently.

A loud scream from a very upset Brianna brought me back to the present.

I held Brianna even more tightly to my chest, took another step forward, and placed my right hand on the stone with a cleft.

The stone screamed.  


* * *

I started to open my eyes, still light-headed. 

Someone was screaming loudly on the background. I took a deep breath and realized it was a baby.

The first coherent thought I had was Brianna. 

I focused my attention on my arms, noticing with tremendous relief that her warm weight was still there.

Going through must’ve knocked me down at some point, because the in the last memory I had before touching the stone I was standing. 

At the moment I was in a sitting position, Brianna secured tightly in a cocoon of limbs, crying her heart out.

“It’s okay, Bree. It’s over now.” I spoke in a soothing tone, rocking her to and fro.

After a few minutes, her crying decreased to a quiet sniff.

I stood carefully, trying to get some sense of direction as I realized how tired Brianna might be.

I took several tentative steps towards an oak tree away from the stone circle and leaned against it, sliding down slowly.

I supported the baby on my left arm and used my right hand to pull on the laces of my dress. I freed a breast and adjusted Brianna so she nurse.

I knew nursing would sooth her farther, possibly even get her to take a nap. I had a good few hours of walking in front of me before I could purchase a horse. And going anywhere with a fussy baby wouldn’t be easy.

Brianna nursed for several minutes, then I shifted her to the other breast.

Before long she was out like a light.

I moved gently in order not to rouse her from slumber and tied back the laces of the dress.

Standing up slowly, I took in my surroundings, and started walking towards the foot of the hill.   


Walking each step in front of the other, the soft crack of dried leaves under my feet as I went down the slope.

I reached the foot of the hill minutes later, started to feel the peace of having made the right decision.

Then I heard shouting, the clear sound of a conflict going on. 

The men were some distance away when I saw them. Two, maybe more, in highland clothing, running across a clearing in the forest.

In the back of my head, I noticed they were in full highland regalia, and the thought that tartans were banned in Scotland after Culloden just started coming into my brain when I heard the unmistakable sound of gunshots.

Trying to move as little as possible I crouched behind a large tree.

I moved a little to the side so I could have a better look of what was going on.

Five or six men dressed in red coats and knee breeches, waving muskets, running after the highlanders.

Probably a group of resistant highlanders trying to outrun redcoats, then.

The sound of yelling changed direction abruptly. There was a thunder of hooves, and several horses came charging, kilted Scots - to my dismay - atop them, screaming in Gaelic - again to my dismay.

A few feet away, one of the redcoats was knocked flat by a highlander running on foot.  


As he turned, looking in the direction of his companions, I covered my lips with my hand as a gasp escaped my mouth.

That highlander was Angus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did anyone see that coming?


	6. 1743

_Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ._

I couldn’t be dead. The awful feeling of going through the stones still present in every inch of my body proved it.

It also couldn’t be a dream. Everything going on was way more complex than any kind of dream I might’ve been able to conjure.

I closed my eyes for a second and looked again in the direction of the highlander.

Maybe it was someone similar to Angus, and I’d gotten confused by the sight of someone else.

He was laughing and shaking his fist in the air theatrically after the horses, clearly enjoying the fact that he’d knocked down the redcoat who now laid at his feet.

The same hair, the same air of enjoyment over a battle, and the unmistakable gap of missing teeth of his grin.

It was, without a doubt, Angus.

Angus, who’d died of internal injuries over a year before, after the battle of Prestonpans, was now very much alive before my eyes.

If I wasn’t dead nor dreaming, I could only reach one conclusion: the stones had lended me and Brianna to the wrong damn year.

The repercussions of that conclusion immediately made my knees weaken.

I was in bloody 1743 all over again.

The battle of Culloden had never happened. In fact, it wouldn’t happen for another three years.

The uprising didn’t happen yet.

Jamie and I didn’t go to France, never met Charles Stuart and never went to battle

A tear rolled through my cheek as I realized Jamie didn’t even know me in this timeline.

Whatever had happened that ended up with me in 1743 was completely messed up. Brianna being here, a warm weight pressed against my chest, sleeping deeply, was proof of it. 

Brianna. How on earth was I going to explain her?

When I’d first decided to come back I knew Jamie had a price on his head, however for a different reason.

A shiver ran through my spine as another thought suddenly flooded my mind.

Black Jack Randall was alive.

And from what I remembered, so clearly, from the first time around, he was close by.

I shifted Brianna in my arms and felt for a specific secret pocket in my skirt.

I sighed with relief as I concluded all the items I’d packed had made the journey with me.

And now, more than ever, there was an item that could be more valuable than anything else.

More valuable, even, than all the medicine I’d packed.

As silently as possible, I reached inside my skirts and after some fumbling, managed to undo the stitches that kept the secret pocket safe.

Bless Mrs. Graham and her cleverness.

_ “What on earth is this?” I gasped as I saw the 18th century gun sitting beside the Barbara Guttenburgs dress on the bed. _

_ “A gun”. Mrs. Graham answered matter of factly. “Thought it might come in handy. I purchased from a wee friend who sells antiques off the record in Edinburgh. He said it works perfectly, despite being so old. It’s not just a replica, ye ken.” _

_ Mrs. Graham, since I had first told her about the decision to go back, had been going above and beyond to help. But to get her hands in an autentique 18th century weapon in working order brought a whole new level of gratitude. _

_ I reached my arms around her shoulders and hugged her tight in appreciation. _

_ While I had thought about bringing a weapon of some kind, I’d figured it might be too difficult to find a gun acceptable for the time period that still worked.  _ _ Also, there was the issue of the disarmament that had come upon Scotland in the years succeeding Culloden. _

_ “And dinna worry about redcoats.” Mrs. Graham interrupted my thoughts as if reading my mind. “I sewed a pocket inside the skirts that should keep it secure and well hidden. No one will ken to look fer it unless they know it’s there. It’ll stay there at least until ye get somewhere safe to retrieve it.” _

Indeed, the amount of fabric surrounding the gun kept it safe from making any noise that might deem it suspicious.

Carefully, I loaded the gun and hid it in my stocking.

I watched Brianna, looking for signs that she might wake anytime soon. There were none. She was probably exhausted from the journey through the stones, and slept deeply, completely oblivious of her surroundings.

I walked carefully through the saplings, trying to make as little noise as possible. 

With each step I looked over my shoulder, making sure no one was behind.

Had he been a snake, I would’ve stepped on him. 

I was sure I’d been walking in a different direction than the one that had led me to Jack Randall the first time around. 

But clearly I’d been wrong.

The overwhelming scent of lavender hit my nostrils as he clapped over my mouth to keep me from screaming.

He dragged me to an oak grove as I thrashed violently, trying to free myself from my captor. 

Aware of Brianna safely tucked against my left arm, I tried desperately to reach surreptitiously under my skirt with my right, without success.

After pressing me against a large tree, Randall finally let go of my mouth, but still remained close enough that reaching for the gun was impossible.

“Who are you and what are you doing in these parts all alone with a child?” He spoke coldly, staring me head to toe.

I knew I had mere seconds to come up with a plausible explanation that might be credible enough to set me free.

“I was traveling by horse, going home from visiting friends near Inverness. I’d just dismounted to stretch my legs when those men appeared out of nowhere.” I replied uneasily. “My horse got spooked from all the noise and ran off.”

I decided to offer as little information as possible, hoping that might be enough to give me an escaping chance.

“And you are?” He pushed.

“Claire Beauchamp.”

I obviously couldn’t introduce myself as Randall, much less as a Fraser, out of fear he might connect me with Jamie.

He took a step back and bowed sardonically, putting a hand over his heart.

“Jonathan Randall, Esquire, Captain of His Majesty’s Eighth Dragoons. At your service, madam.”

I took the opportunity when I saw it and broke into a frantic run, tearing my skirts on fallen branches and bushes, both my arms protectively against Brianna.

Being aware that I didn’t have much time before Jack Randall reached me, I gently settled her against a fallen log and reached for the gun in my stocking.

Before I could touch it though, I was struck in the lower back and collapsed forward, out of breath.

“What do you think you’re doing, running away like that?” He spat, rough hands gripping me hard and flipping me against my back. 

I struggled against him, trying to break free, which only caused him to fall against me on the ground.

“You like it this way, then?” He whispered, his eyes full of malice.

He ground his hips against mine, thrusting his tongue into my mouth.

He slid his hands against the front of my dress, trying to undo the laces.

Without pausing to think, I immediately used his distraction to reach my free hand towards the bottom of my skirts, finally feeling the cold metal of the gun against my palm.

I aimed a violent kick between his legs, which gave me the perfect timing to finally grab the metal device.

Without a second thought, I aimed at his head and pulled the trigger.

The loud resonance of the gunshot rang through my entire body. Blood started dripping unto my shoulder, and the sordid man’s pupils dilated, lifeless.

I squirmed to break free from under his body, breathing heavily, and stumbled to get to a sitting position against a tree at least a few feet from where I’d been.

A soft whimper coming from behind me indicated Brianna was awakened by all the racket that had just taken place.

With trembling legs, I stood and walked towards the log I’d placed her against, picking her up and rocking her softly against my chest.

We stood there for what seemed like hours, when in fact was probably only a few minutes. Again in familiar arms, Brianna calmed down at once, and looked curiously around her, wondering what was going on.

I knew I needed to get moving, but my legs were like jelly.

There were still redcoats lurking nearby, and I still had no idea how to proceed next.

Appearing out of thin air, a muscular hand suddenly reached for the gun laying by Jack Randall’s head.

I blinked, trying to focus my eyes, and found myself staring into a familiar pair of sharp black eyes.

_ Murtagh. _

I sighed audibly, relived to finally be close to someone I knew I could trust.

He stood rapidly and, moving to my side, grabbed my arm and helped me to my feet.

“Are ye okay, lass?” He asked in a raspy voice.

“Yes.” I stammered.

Murtagh eyed me up and down, noticing my state of disarray.

The front of my dress was undone, my skirtstore at several places, and dirt smeared my limbs. The baby was covered in a now dirty blanket, twigs and leaves attached to it.

I motioned to fix some of the laces, having little success other than barely covering my breasts while doing it one-handed.

“He did this to ye?” He nodded towards the dead body lying a few feet ahead.

“He found me and demanded to know who I was and what I was doing in the woods.” I spoke in a more solid voice. “Then he introduced himself as Captain Jack Randall, and knowing of his reputation, I ran. Then he attacked me.”

I’d decided to keep to the truth as much as possible, knowing fully well my glass face would never allow me to build a very structured lie.

“Then you killed him.” Murtagh completed.

“I had no other choice.” I replied shakily. “Not if I wanted to leave unscathed and keep my child safe.”

“No, I reckon ye did what ye had to.” He complied, scratching his beard.

He then noticed the the baby in my arms, frowning as he stared at her.

“The bairn. Is he all right?” His scruffy voice got softer than I’ve ever heard before.

“Yes. She’s just a like shaken up, I guess.”

“Aye, a lass, than.” He concluded. “Hi there, wee one.”

Brianna, finally getting some attention, smiled happily.

Murtagh raised his eyebrows, as if deep in thought, then shook his head.

I wondered if he’d noticed any similarities between Brianna and his godson and, thinking it impossible, had shaken the thought from his mind.

“Weel, can’t leave ye and the bairn here.” Murtagh decided. “This way.”

He guided us patiently through the trees, took a turn around a large rock, and we found ourselves in a path I remembered.

The overgrown heather exactly the same way it was before, it lead to the crest of a hill. We picked our way slowly down the far side of it, Brianna quietly staring intently at her surroundings.

As we finally reached the foot of the hill, I noticed a black mare grazing calmly.

Murtagh helped me mount the horse, which was challenging with the baby, but we managed. He mounted behind me, and making sure we were secured, Brianna firmly held in my arms, got the horse to a trot.

We rode in silence.

I wondered if Murtagh was keeping the questions to when the others were present or simply keeping the noise to a minimum to avoid unwanted attention.

We reached the stone cottage about an hour later. The shutters were bolted tight, exactly like the last time.

Murtagh dismounted and helped me down with Brianna.

As we got inside, I blinked to get my eyes accustomed to the light from the fire and candles around the room.

“What is it ye have there, Murtagh?” Dougal asked without ceremony.

“A Sassenach who was attacked by a certain dragoon we’re all familiar with.” He responded matter of factly. “Despite being alone with a bairn, she managed to get her hands on a gun and killed him.”

A loud collective gasp was heard through the room.

All eyes turned to me then, some in curiosity, some in incredulity. Dougal looked over me carefully, no expression on his face.

“Ye killed Black Jack Randall?” He asked challengingly.

“I had no other choice.” I responded firmly.

“What’s yer name, lass?” He inquired, moving from his spot to circle around me.

_“Claire?”_ A voice I’d be able to recognize anywhere came from the end of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I’m sorry this chapter took me longer than I’d expected. I had a busy week at work, so I couldn’t get it done sooner.


	7. Thrown Off by a Horse

From the moment Jamie had awaken that morning, all he felt was numbness. The ever present feeling of emptiness was worse than ever.

He always felt worse whenever sleeping in the house, even if he’d never once entered the Laird’s room.

The only reason he did stay in the house that night had been the lad.

He blamed himself for Fergus’ encounter with the redcoats on the day before. Damn the kid’s stubbornness. Despite not being related to either him or Claire by blood, he took after both of them in pigheadedness.

So when the redcoats left the house, of course Fergus had to go ahead and mislead them to think he’d been actually going to a hiding spot in the woods.

And the moment that bastard soldier had lost his temper and started making threats, the boy started taunting him to no end.

The price had been his own hand. And Jamie had to watch the entire scene unfold, completely powerless to do anything to stop it from happening.

He’d carried Fergus back to the house and watched quietly as he was tended to by a frantic Jenny.

Through every second of the whole ordeal he couldn’t keep his thoughts from Claire.

How she would deal with Fergus’ injury with that focused healer mode she got in whenever someone needed medical attention, probably cussing the living daylights out of lad for confronting the bloody redcoat in such a careless manner.

All the mothering she would certainly do afterwards, making sure he was as comfortable as possible.

Since sending her through the stones back to her time, Claire and the bairn had been a constant in his mind. Prayers that she and the child had made it safely, and would remain so, occupying every fiber of life he still had after that fateful day at Craigh na Dun.

Whenever he’d think of her, she was always there. After the battle, while he’d recovered from his injuries at Lallybroch, at the cave he’d been hiding in for over a year.

But he’d hardly ever dared to say her name out loud.

It hurt too much.

And after asking about Claire on the aftermath of Culloden and understanding she was gone, neither did his family. No one ever spoke of again.

That was why what had come out of Ian’s mouth when discussing with him Fergus’ recovery process had surprised him so much.

_ “My leg, it’s not there, as anyone can plainly see.” Ian spoke while he poured a dram. “And yet, it pains me terrible sometimes. Even wakes me up at night.” _

_ Jamie had heard a number of times about cases like that. When a person lost a limb, but still could feel it as it was there. Pain, itching, those were ghost feelings to those who’d lost a part of themselves. _

_ “Fergus, the lad, he’ll likely feel the same with his hand.” He continued, limping towards the other chair in the candlelit room. “Feeling a pain in a part of ye that’s lost. And that’s just a hand.” _

_ Ian paused, took a breath, then pursed his lips as if considering whether or not to say out loud what he was thinking. _

_ “Claire was yer heart.” _

_ Jamie looked up in that instant, the name of his wife enough to make whatever else was in his mind vanish. _

_ Ian then paused again, looked at his brother-in-law as if he had more to say, but then simply hailed his own glass of whisky, deciding against saying more. _

Jamie had spent the night in the house to help with Fergus in any way he could.

Most of the night was spend making sure the lad was comfortable and didn’t have a fever, having only finally succumbed to sleep when the sun was almost up.

He had woken with the sound of Jenny scolding the bairns, who were, apparently, causing ruckus inside the house. 

He went quickly to the other bedroom to check on Fergus, who was still soundly asleep, and feeling overwhelmed by the events of the previous day, prepared Donas for a ride.

Despite the risks of being recognized even with the dark brown bonnet Jamie wore, he needed to get out of the house, away from the feeling of guilt of not being able to stop that boy whom he’d come to love as a son from being hurt.

Jamie rode for hours non stop, the constant trot of the horse keeping his emotions at bay.

He knew he couldn’t stay in Lallybroch for much longer. It was dangerous for everyone, and Fergus being injured the day before only had confirmed how reckless he’d been by staying there.

On the other hand, leaving to go anywhere meant the redcoats never giving his family a rest.

As he’d approached an area where the trees grew more sparsely, he also considered his promise to Fergus. The boy would likely resent him for leaving, but he’d would no doubt be safer.

Jamie had just formulated a plan that consisted on surrendering himself, and at the same time making sure Jenny and Ian got the reward money for his head when he noticed the sound of a gurgling stream nearby.

He’d also noticed the position of the sun in the sky and realized that it was near sunset, reaching the conclusion that he’d been riding for almost ten hours without break.

“Sorry mate. I ken ye’re exhausted.” He apologized while dismounting Donas, regretful of not being more aware of the horse’s need of a break for water and a well deserved rest.

Gently caressing his mane, Jamie gently pulled Donas’ reins towards the stream.

The horse gladly started drinking noisily.

Then Jamie noticed his surroundings.

When he’d left Lallybroch earlier he didn’t have anywhere specific in mind. He’d just felt the need to get away.

But as he’d started making plans to surrender to the redcoats, he must’ve unconsciously stated to ride there.

The hill of Craigh na Dun stared at him from above, as if daring him to get anywhere closer. 

The pull Jamie had felt to that place was stronger than anything he’d ever felt before.

As he’d started the steep climb towards the stones that had taken his wife and child to safety, Jamie reflected on his predicament.

He’d known, obviously, that Claire wasn’t there. But he’d needed to see the stones, the last place he’d seen her, one last time, if he really was going through with his plan to be captured.

When he’d finally reached the top of the hill, the sun was quickly setting. The sight of the stones against the tones of orange, red and purple in the sky giving an eerie atmosphere to the place.

Jamie took a deep breath, and reached for the tallest stone.  


* * *

Being thrown off a horse at full speed.

Actually, being thrown off a horse at full speed and immediately falling through a hole so deep you couldn’t see it’s bottom.

That was how Jamie would describe the feeling of what had just happened.

When he’d finally come to himself, he opened his eyes to see that he had, in fact, being thrown off a horse.

He’d tried to move, but a piercing pain on his shoulder indicated it wasn’t the best idea.

“Calm down, lad. ye’ve just fallen on yer arse. And by the looks of it, yer shoulder is dislodged.” A voice he thought he’d never hear again in his life spoke from above his head.

After Culloden, Jamie could’ve sworn Murtagh had died in battle.

But there was his godfather, looking down at him from above his head with a worried look on this face.

“What the hell just happened?” He asked, disoriented.

“The bloody beast got spooked and threw ye off his back, that’s what happened.” Another voice he never thought he’d ever hear again spoke from behind him.

Dougal.

Murtagh moved to help him sit down, wary of the injured shoulder.

Jamie sat on the ground with a grunt. 

Looking up, he saw clearly two other people that should’ve been dead.

Rupert and Angus.

“Can ye stand, lad?” Dougal asked.

“Aye.” Jamie took a heavy breath and tried to move, only to be stopped by the blinding pain on his shoulder.

“Weel, can’t have the lad traveling like this.” Dougal stated with a sigh. “Let’s find a place to have his shoulder fixed, then we can get back on the road sooner rather than later.”  


* * *

Several hours later, he sat on a bench by the wall in a room lit by the hearth and several candles scattered all around, inside a cottage they’d manage to find.   


Jamie was still trying to make sense of what had happened.

Murtagh and Angus had gone with some other men to try and fetch some food for them to eat before fixing Jamie’s shoulder and continuing their journey to Leoch.

He’d always thought he couldn’t travel through the stones. He’d even touched them before, to no avail.

But somehow, he’d travelled this time around.

It was the only explanation he had for the fact that Murtagh, Dougal, Rupert and Angus were alive. Also, the only explanation for the lancing pain on his shoulder, exactly the same one he’d felt almost four years before.

Somehow, the bloody stones had worked this time.

Only instead of being sent to the future, where Claire and his bairn were, he was sent back to 1743.

How did it happen?

Did it mean he’d get to meet Claire and go through the motions of those three years together one more time?

Did it mean he had the chance to maybe somehow not end up with him and his wife separated by 200 years?

He hoped so.

Bonnie Prince Charles had been enough proof that making major changes in history was not possible.

But maybe, just maybe, it might be possible to change slight details, such as never joining that blasted uprising.

He was thinking of how things might happen differently between him and Claire, with him knowing everything that had transpired between them, when a loud noise announced the others had arrived.

Having decided to act as he had the first time Claire had seen him so as not to scare her, he bowed his head, staring at his own feet.

His heart was beating rapidly in his chest, the anxiety of seeing his Claire for the first time after over a year of separation overwhelming.

Even if she would not recognize him.

The sound of lighter steps approaching meant Claire was with already with the men.

Jamie resisted the temptation to look up, knowing in due time she would fix his shoulder and he’d get the chance to see her up close.

“What is it ye have there, Murtagh?” Dougal asked without ceremony, exactly the same question he’d asked her before.

“A Sassenach who was attacked by a certain dragoon we’re all familiar with.” Murtagh responded matter of factly. “Despite being alone with a bairn, she managed to get her hands on a gun and killed him.”

Jamie felt his heart stop at hearing those words.

_ “She managed to get her hands on a gun and killed him.” _

Black Jack Randall would no longer be an issue to them.

On the other hand, his heart clenched when he came to the conclusion that Randall had been the reason they’d been forced to marry. And unless she fell in love with him earlier, it meant Claire would undoubtedly do her hardest to go back to her time.

Then his mind registered the something else part his godfather had said. 

Did Claire travel from another year? Did she have a child with Frank who had travelled with her?

He couldn’t possibly keep Claire in his time if it meant a child would be deprived of their father, no matter how deeply he loved their mother.

Despite the pang in his heart, Jamie knew he had to do whatever it took to send Claire and her child back through the stones.

He knew all too well what it was like to have a child being ripped from him. He would never do the same to Frank, even if he had no sympathy towards the man.

But before he started making plans to get them to Craigh na Dun, he decided to give himself one look.

One look at her to know she was really there, alive and well. Then he’d make sure she and the child were safely back in their own time.  


He looked up.

Dougal, who was standing in front of him, eyed Claire up and down, gaging her.

“Ye killed Jack Randall?” He asked challengingly, no expression on his face.

“I had no other choice.” She responded firmly.

“What’s yer name, lass?” Dougal inquired, moving from his spot to circle around her.

With his view unobstructed, Jamie looked straight into her eyes.

But what he saw there was not fear, anxiety or confusion like he’d been expecting.

Jamie knew fairly well that whatever Claire was feeling would appear clearly on her face.

And what appeared on her face in that precise moment was a mixture of amazement, recognition and love.

“Claire?” He asked tentatively before he could stop himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written faster than I’d expected. 
> 
> I know many of you were hoping for a reunion, but I felt Jamie needed to have his point of view out there before going forward.


	8. Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter we all have been waiting for. :)

“What’s yer name, lass?” Dougal inquired, moving from his spot to circle around me.

As he walked, I let my eyes wander to the back of the room, where I knew Jamie would be.

I tried to keep my face void of any sign that might review that to me he was not just another man in that cottage.

I’d expected Jamie to keep staring at the floor, but suddenly he lifted his face, our eyes meeting for a split second before I quickly diverted to stare at a very interesting point on the wall, afraid my glass face might show anything it shouldn’t.

“ _Claire?_ ” A voice I’d be able to recognize anywhere came from the end of the room.

My heart stopped for a second, freezing me on the spot, before I could react.

Being again in 1743, Jamie couldn’t possibly know who I was. Yet again, the single word that had escaped his mouth indicated differently.

“Jamie.” I muttered before I could stop myself, looking again in his direction.

“Ye ken the lass?” Dougal asked confusedly.

“Aye.” He answered decidedly, his eyes shining with tears. “That’s my wife.”

My own eyes filled with tears as well, realizing Jamie knew exactly who I was, and more specifically, who we were to each other.

“Wife?” Murtagh intervened, perplexed, directing his gaze at me.

I froze, knowing fully well I had no idea how to come up with a believable explanation for anything. And even if I could, I doubted I’d be able to form a coherent sentence.

“How did we no’ know about it, lad?” Dougal intervened, looking suspiciously between Jamie and me.

“In happened while I was in France.” Jamie spoke with a certainty no one dared to rebut. “We met about a year and a half ago. She was collecting her wee herbs just outside Versailles. Claire is a healer, ye ken. The moment I saw her I knew she was the one. I started courting her then, and we married soon after in a kirk near Compiène.”

I was once again mesmerized by Jamie’s ability to build a story from scratch without blinking an eye.

“I didn’t write about it because I thought it’d be best to tell ye the news in person, after arriving at Leoch. Wasna expecting Claire to appear in Scotland, though.” He added with a smirk.

“And why didn’t the lass come with ye in the first place?” Murtagh probed.

“I dinna want to bring my wife with me while I had a price in my head. We got separated about a year ago, and I thought I’d be able to return to Claire before coming to Scotland. But clearly I’d been wrong.” Jamie stated matter of factly. “I’ve never missed anyone so badly in my life”.

Jamie might’ve been creating the whole story on the spot, the intensity of the emotion poured on his last sentence was not lost on me.

Murtagh only replied with a “Mmphm” noise, seeming satisfied with the story for now.

“And how did ye end up here, lass?” He directed me.

While Jamie had been weaving his part of the story, I knew I’d have to explain how I’d ended up in Scotland soon.

I was very much aware of lack of ability to build a creative believable scenario like Jamie. However, I could start with the truth, and only change slight details as they came.

“I thought Jamie was dead.” I started with the a lite truth. “I heard he was dead. I spend months thinking he was dead, the worst months of my life.”

My eyes started tearing up with how strong the pain of thinking Jamie dead for so long had been.

“Then I heard word that he lived. And even if I had no proof of him being alive, I had to be sure.” I continued after a breath. “So I made arrangements to travel as soon as I could. I knew Jamie had family near Broch Mordha. So I figured if I made it there, I might find some information of his whereabouts.”

Dougal was the only one still looking suspicious about the whole thing. If Murtagh had anything to say, it seemed like he’d wait until there was no audience within earshot.

At that precise moment, Brianna, who had been quietly resting against my shoulder, decided to make her presence known by emitting loud a whimper.

“I’m sorry, she must be getting hungry.” I explained. “We didn’t stop for a feeding since before our encounter with Black Jack Randall.”

“Let’s fix Jamie’s shoulder, we canna do much before that.” Dougal stated. “We’ve got a good distance to go tonight. Even with Randall dead we canna be safe until we’re in MacKenzie territory.”

Dougal moved to Jamie’s side, muttering quietly in Gaelic.

“Aye, it’s out o’ joint, poor bugger.” He kneeled in front of him.

“There’s no help for it then.” Angus, who was standing near Jamie, spoke. “I’ll have to force the joint back.”

“You’ll do no such thing!” I intervened quickly, coming to my senses despite Brianna’s fussing.

Brianna was in need of a feeding, and soon, before her whimpers would turn into loud wails. 

But I couldn’t possibly let Angus break Jamie’s arm, which was exactly what would happen if someone tried to put the joint in its place without any medical knowledge.

“Wife or not, we need to fix the lad’s shoulder.” Angus annoyingly spoke in my direction me.

“Hold him.” Angus commanded Rupert, who immediately moved towards Jamie’s back.

“No, ye won’t.” Jamie interrupted. “Claire is a healer, she ken well enough who to do this.”

I quickly walked the distance to Jamie’s side, instantly feeling warm simply by being close to him.

Exactly like the first time, he was dirty, dressed in ragged clothes and injured.

But I couldn’t love him any less.

“Could you hold her for a second, please?” I gently placed Brianna in Murtagh’s arms before he could protest.

Murtagh rocked her awkwardly, clearly not used to holding an infant, and turned the baby towards him, taking a more attentive look at her.

“Christ, the bairn is the spitting image of ye, Jamie.”

Upset from having been ignored for so long, and upon realizing she was in a stranger’s arms, Brianna took one look at Murtagh’s bearded face and emitted a loud scream, crying her heart out.

“Some nice lungs ye got, lassie.” He made a hilarious attempt to coo at her, trying to get her to calm down.

“Someone get me some whisky.” I demanded, frustrated.

Immediately a flask materialized in front of me.

“Take a good swig, this is going to hurt.” I gave Jamie the flask.

“No. I won’t have ye so close to me for the first time in a year only to be intoxicated.” He refused. “I’ll bear the pain.”

Knowing fully well how stupidly stubborn he could be, I simply acquiesced, rolling my eyes.

“Hold him steady.” I asked Rupert. “You have to get the bone of the upper arm in the correct position before it slips back into joint.”

I bent down at Jamie’s height, looking him in the eye.

“Ready?” I asked in a murmur.

He nodded, pursing his lips.

“This is the worst part.” I said, trying to concentrate through Brianna’s crying.

I pulled Jamie’s wrist up and the elbow in, his arm heavy in my hands. Cupping his elbow, I got ready to whip it upward and in.

The shoulder gave a soft crunching noise and the joint was back in place.

Again, Jamie looked amazed.

“It doesn’t hurt anymore.” He smiled in incredulity. Exactly as he’d done before.

“It will.” I snorted. “It will be tender for about a week. You’ll need a sling.”

I looked around the room, searching for what I’d need.

“Can someone fetch me a long piece of cloth, or a belt?” I requested.

“ _‘Fetch me,’_ she says. Do ye hear that, lads?” Angus rised his eyebrows in disbelief. “The lad not only married a Sassenach, but a bossy one.”

“Give her yer belt.” Dougal ordered solemnly.

Angus looked at him, but complied without another word.

I fixed the belt around Jamie’s shoulder, making sure it was placed correctly.

“I think the wee lass needs her mam.” Murtagh spoke, clearly disconcerted from all the crying, and handed me a squirming Brianna.

“Let’s give them some privacy so she can feed the bairn.” Dougal said in a commanding tone, and motioned to go outside, everyone quickly following him.

I sat on a chair by the hearth and started fumbling with the laces in the front of my dress, desperate to calm Brianna, knowing she would sooth the moment she had her food source within reach.

“Do you mind?” I looked up at Jamie, nodding at the baby.

I’d been so used to Frank’s repulse towards breastfeeding that I’d felt the need to make sure Jamie wouldn’t be uncomfortable with the action.

“You feeding the bairn?” He answered in confusion.

I nodded, timidly.

“Claire, of course not.”

I resumed working the laces and after some difficulty dealing with them along with a squirming Brianna in my arms, I finally freed a breast. 

Brianna, locating it, immediately latched on, greedily, and started to nurse.

“She’s a greedy wee thing, is she no’?” A voice a few inches from my face startled me.

So focused on calming Brianna I hadn’t noticed Jamie moving from his spot.

He pulled another chair and sat in front of us.

My eyes immediately filled with tears, and I reached to touch his face.

“Jamie...” I spoke in a choked voice.

“I thought I’d never see ye again, Sassenach.” He spoke, tears reflecting on his eyes as well.

“How?” I murmured.

“I dinna ken.” He reached his hand to touch my cheek. “But whatever reason I ended up here again, I’m grateful.”

I moved forward, mindful of the baby between us, and touched my forehead to his, breathing in his scent, tears roaming freely through both of our faces.

“The child.” Jamie moved back an inch, staring at Brianna intently. “It’s a girl, then?”

“Yes.” I spoke through a snivel. “This is your daughter. Brianna.”

His eyes filled with more tears.

“Brianna?” He laughed. “What an awful name for a wee lassie!”

“It’s not awful.” I laughed along. “I named her after your father. Brian.”

Jamie touched Brianna’s tiny elbow, his eyes full of emotion.

She abandoned the breast she’d been latching on to see what was touching her, and upon seeing Jamie’s face, gave a coo, followed by a smile.

“Brianna.” Jamie spoke for the first time. “You are the most beautiful child I’ve ever seen.”

She squirmed to take a better look at him, reaching her pudgy hand towards his face and grabbing his nose.

“Do you mind?” He asked, motioning to pick her up.

I hesitated, aware of Brianna’s stranger danger. She would always smile, coo, and even touch people she didn’t know, but she second someone tried to pick her up she would scream bloody murder.

Frightened of her having the same reaction towards Jamie and rejecting him, I handed her over, carefully placing her in his lap, mindful of his injured shoulder.

“She might cry, usually she’s really upset when people pick her up...”

A loud giggle interrupted me.

Brianna was happily giggling in Jamie’s arms, touching his mouth, eyes and nose.

“She is a smart lassie. She kens who her father is.” He spoke through his tears, a smile in his face.

“She does.” I smiled back, feeling warm inside.

We stayed like that for several minutes, touching every part of the other we could reach, mouth, forehead, hands.

Brianna soon settled into a slumber, warmly tucked against Jamie’s good shoulder.

The air got charged as he looked at me.

“Mo nighean donn...” he spoke, reaching to tuck a loose curl behind my ear.

Then he kissed me gently, mindful of the baby between us, mindful as well of his injured shoulder.

But the kiss was everything I’d hoped for.

I tried to pour every word, every emotion into it as our lips moved together, the first time after so long.

A “mmphm” noise sounded from the door, announcing Murtagh followed by Dougal and the others.

“Can you ride, lad?” Dougal asked after taking a few hesitant steps in our little family’s direction.

“Aye.” Jamie answered, moving back and facing his uncle.

“Good. We’re leaving.” He spoke decisively. “The two of ye will have time to catch up on the road.”


	9. Reconnection

Jamie mounted first, with Murtagh’s help. I passed a sleeping Brianna to Murtagh, grabbed Jamie’s hand and mounted in front of him.

Murtagh gently rocked Brianna, staring at her as if not completely believing she was real, and gently handed her to me, so she could rest against my chest as I rode in front of Jamie. 

“Are ye comfortable, Sassenach?” He asked as he passed his good arm around my waist.

“As comfortable as we can be, I supposed.” I leaned against Jamie, letting his masculine scent fill my senses. It was indescribably good to be so close to him again. 

He pulled me even closer, and placed a kiss on the back of my neck.

“Ye have no idea just how nice this feels.” He spoke softly against my hair. “To feel ye again, against me, and to have the bairn here with us. Feels too much like a dream. I keep thinking I’ll wake and realize it was only a dream.”

“If this is a dream, I don’t want to ever wake up.” I closed my eyes.

“Me neither.” He replied softly, caressing Brianna’s arm.

“Here, make sure she is warm.” Jamie pulled the plaid that covered his back and handed it to me in Brianna’s direction. “We are riding all night long, and with this weather, I don’t want her getting sick.”

I carefully folded the plaid and tied a knot around it, making an improvised sling. Placing Brianna in it, I shifted it around a little, making sure it was firm.

“There.” I turned my head to see Jamie’s face, smiling. “This way she is protected from the wind and I can share my body heat with her.”

“And I can share mine with ye.” He responded, holding me more tightly and caressing my hipbone.

“Are ye lovebirds ready to go?” Dougal passed through us on his horse. “We need to go now if we’re to get anywhere near Leoch in two days time.”

Jamie motioned for the horse to start walking as soon as the last one in the group passed through us, keeping us several feet behind the last horse.

We stayed close enough to see the others from behind, but distant enough so we could talk without being heard.

“Claire, I need to know.” Jamie broke the silence after a few moments. “Did ye come back to bring news of my child? Or to be my wife again?”

I sensed the insecurity behind his words. This was the first opportunity we had for a very needed conversation, since our time alone in the cottage had been so short.

Neither of us knew how we were back in 1743 or anything at all that might’ve happened during our time apart. I only knew what little information I had form researching with Mrs. Graham. But even that wasn’t nearly as much as the real thing.

“I came back because I love you.” I spoke, squeezing his hand. “And because I couldn’t possibly stay away if there was even a slight chance you’d survived Culloden.”

I caressed his hand, looking for the fading C shaped scar on inside of his wrist and massaging it gently with my thumb, remembering the despair we felt when that scar was made.

Jamie brought our hands to his lips, kissing the J shaped scar I had on the inside of my own wrist.

“Did ye ken?” He asked. “That I survived, I mean.”

“Not at first.” I answered, thinking about those first few weeks after Frank’s passing. “But I made the decision to come back long before I knew you had lived. My original plan was to go back to Lallybroch. And have Brianna being raised amongst family.”

I felt Jamie tense behind me.

“Claire,” He spoke hesitatingly. “Did Frank take ye back when ye went through the stones?”

“Yes.” I spoke, taking a breath. “He still loved me. And he was willing to raise Brianna as his.”

“And were ye happy with him?”

“I was trying to be happy raising Brianna with him.” I retorted. I couldn’t use the word _happy_ for my time back with Frank. But I had promised Jamie I’d try to, and trying I was.

We stayed silent for a moment, both pondering about my time with Frank. 

“Did ye...” Jamie started, hesitating once again. “Did ye leave Frank to come back through the stones?”

“No.” I spoke calmly. “He died in an accident two months ago.”

“Did he know? About me. Us.”

“Yes.” My mind when back to when I told Frank the truth about those three years in the past. “I told him everything. Then I had to promise never to talk about any of it again.”

I knew I had resented Frank for that. And he, on the other hand, had resented me for not being able to be the wife he’d wished I would be.

Jamie seemed to think about it for a moment.

“I’m sorry you had to loose him, Claire.” He spoke sincerely.

“I’m sorry he died, Jamie. But I’m not sorry for coming back.”

I still wondered how did I go back to 1743 instead of back to 1747 as I’d expected. But if it meant I had another chance to be with Jamie, and to have us raising Brianna together, I was glad to be there.

“What do ye think happened for ye to end up back here?” He asked as if reading my thoughts.

“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “I knew you had lived. Do you remember me mentioning Mrs. Graham to you?”

I felt him nod from behind me, then I continued. “She was very helpful from the start. She had a research Reverend Wakefield was doing on Frank’s behalf about you.”

I waited for his reaction.

“Do ye think he knew as well?” He inquired.

“No. The Reverend didn’t have the opportunity to send the material he’d collected before Frank’s death.” I answered. “So Mrs. Graham showed me evidence that you were alive. Then we kept looking, trying to find where you might be.”

As we kept riding, I told him everything from our time apart.

How utterly heartbroken I’d been when I came through the stones, and my promise to Frank that I couldn’t keep chasing ghosts.

My pregnancy with Brianna. The cold environment that had surrounded her birth. My fear, as I woke from the anesthesia the doctor had forced into my system, that she wasn’t alive. How utterly happy I’d been when she was placed into my arms, and at the same time, how pained I’d been that he wasn’t there to experience those firsts few moments with us.

I told him of the utter emptiness I’ve felt after Frank’s death, and the despair the mere thought of staying in the 20th century evoked in me.

Then I told him of all the preparations for the journey back.

“It means, my love, that you’re getting inoculated as soon as we are alone without the chance of being interrupted by Dougal and his men.” I spoke in a firm tone.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, Sassenach.” He laughed, kissing my cheek.

After telling him of my passing through the stones, Jamie proceeded on telling me of the year he lived in the aftermath of Culloden.

He told me of surviving the battle, of being spared for a debt of honor concerning the Grey family, and of going back to Lallybroch, severely injured, on the back of a cart.

Jamie told him of his sister’s insistence on making sure he lived, and of her pouring boiling water all over his leg to stop the infection.

Then he told me of going to live in a cave after his recovery, and of the constant visits of the Redcoats on the lookout for Red Jamie.

As he told me of Fergus being hurt and losing his hand of a Redcoat, my heart clenched, thinking about the boy I’ve grown to love as a son.

“And that’s why I went to Craigh na Dun.” He concluded. “I couldna keep putting my family in danger by staying loose. I made a plan to let myself be imprisoned and to have Jenny and Ian getting the reward for turning me in.”

I swallowed a lump in my throat, thinking of the turmoil Jamie might’ve been feeling then.

“But before I was captured, I had to speak with ye one more time, Claire.” He pressed me harder against him, as if making sure I couldn’t physically be separated from him. “So I went to the stones, where I’d last seen ye, to say goodbye, ye ken? But for the first time, I felt the strongest pull to that blasted place. As if I had to go up there at all costs. I reached to touch the stone, but I didna think anything would’ve happen it never happened before.”

I nodded, knowing way too well how strongly was the pull of the stones at Craigh na Dun towards me, and remembering how he’d never been able to have anything happening by touching the stones in both times we’d been there together.

“I thought I was being thrown off a horse in full gallop.” He spoke with a laugh. “Then when I opened my eyes, that’s precisely what’d happened. Then you imagine my shock when I looked up and saw Dougal, Murtagh, Rupert and Angus all around me.”

“Probably the same shock I felt when I walked down the hill and saw Angus fighting Redcoats in the middle of the woods.” I snorted along with him.

“Aye.” I felt the smile in his voice. “Then I tried to move, and my shoulder started killing me. That’s when I realized I probably had traveled in time for the first time, because everything was happening exactly the same as it had when we’d first met.”

“Do you think we touched the stone at the same time and maybe it caused some kind of fracture in the space-time system that sent us back to where everything started?” I wondered out loud.

“Dinna ken.” Jamie shrugged. “What I ken is that I’m grateful to have the chance to be with ye, Sassenach. To love ye again, hold ye in my arms. To raise the bairn together. Maybe even have another bairn or two.”

I smiled, and pulling our interlaced fingers to my face, kissed the back of his hand. We had a chance to do wherever life would throw at us. Together. And that’s what mattered.

“Just promise me we’ll stay far, far away from bloody Prince Charlie this time.” I said.

“Aye.” He complied.

We kept riding, remembering moments from our time together and little details about our time apart, stealing touches and kisses every now and then.

As morning started to come, I started to notice a familiar shape in the horizon.

_Cocknammon Rock_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To those who’ve been asking whether Claire and Jamie are the same age as they were in the original timeline or the age they were after parting at Craigh na Dun, I hope this chapter got your answer. :)


	10. Small Changes

Brianna, being the early riser she usually was, started to stir. I rocked her gently, trying to get her to calm down despite being in unfamiliar surroundings. She yawned and moved her little head to the side, burrowing her face under my right breast, but didn’t wake.

“Do ye think Brianna is going to wake soon?” Jamie asked, reaching his hand to caress her back.

I always knew he would be an amazing father. But to get to see, firsthand, how gentle and caring he was with our daughter, warmed my heart.

“She usually wakes not long after dawn. She’s a really good sleeper.” I answered quietly. “But she might sleep a bit longer if she’s tired, and yesterday was a very eventful day for her. I don’t think her little stomach will hold much longer without complaining, though.”

“Too wee for so long without food, aye?” He confirmed.

“Aye.” I mimicked.

I felt Jamie smile against my hair, and leaned back a little bit, reaching behind me with my hand to touch his face.

“Jamie, I recognize those shapes up ahead.” I spoke before we moved any closer to the place I knew there would be an ambush by the English. “That’s...”

“Cocknammon Rock, aye.” He interrupted. “And there’s an ambush ahead, I ken. Don’t say anything, I have a plan for it.”

Before I could think of saying anything, he led the horse to a trot until we reached the rest of the men.

“Dougal!” He called his uncle, drawing to a walking pace beside him.

Dougal looked at Jamie, then at me and Brianna safely tucked against my chest and rose an eyebrow in suspicion.

“As I left the ship from France I heard a rumor that the Redcoats were ambushing near Cocknammon Rock.” Jamie spoke without ceremony. “I didna mention it before because I wasna sure we’d be going through this specific path to Leoch.”

Dougal looked around, checking the area.

“Mmphm.” He murmured. “It’s a bonny place for an ambush, aye.”

He seemed to consider the situation for a moment.

“Very well,” he finally spoke, in a commanding tone. “Everyone keep your eyes sharp. There may be an ambush up ahead.”

He proceeded to address the men in Gaelic, clearly distrustful around me.

“Jamie, you find a place to hind the lass and the bairn, then come stay with us until we’re in the clear. If there’s going to be a fight, we better be prepared.” Dougal then told Jamie in English, clearly for my benefit.

“Sorry, uncle.” Jamie immediately cut in a serious tone. “Ye ken very well I’d never turn away from a wee stramash, but I’d rather stay with my wife and child and make sure they’re both safe.”

As if on cue, at that precise moment Brianna stirred again, actually waking up this time. She moved from her spot against my chest and opened her dark blue eyes, looking attentively at her surroundings.

Brianna smiled upon realizing she was still safely in my arms and I caressed her back, reassuring her everything was fine.

She moved her little head to the side, looking intently at the others around, until her eyes rested on Dougal’s face. She studied him for a moment and offered a toothless smile, along with a coo.

“Christ, I might’ve been a bit skeptic about tis’ whole story of ye being married, lad,” he shook his head. “But I canna deny the wean is yers. She’s the spitting image of yer Ma when she was a bairn.”

Dougal seemed thoughtful for a second, seemingly immersed in memories of his late sister.

“Yer right. Ye have family now, and canna risk putting them in harm’s way.” He said in a decided tone. “Hide with yer lasses close to the river and stay there until we come and fetch ye once it’s safe.”

“I thank ye.” Jamie nodded and immediately got into motion.

He started the horse and we trotted until a river a few meters away came into view. 

Brianna started to fuss, making angry noises, and rooted around my chest, clearly looking for her breakfast.

“Shh, a leannan,” Jamie spoke softly above the noise made by the horse’s trot. “We’re almost there.”

We stopped by a river fifteen minutes later, and by that time Brianna was on the verge of a full on meltdown, the only thing stopping her being her the movement from the horse.

Jamie dismounted first, then I took Brianna from the makeshift sling and handed her down to him so I could dismount too.

The second she saw herself free from the sling she’d been stuck in, she let out a loud wail, kicking her little legs angrily.

“Christ,” Jamie snorted. “She won’t let anyone be fooled into thinking she doesna have a strong pair of lungs. And a temper. Quite like her Ma.”

I rolled my eyes at the remark, sitting down on a log against a large rock and making quick work of my laces.

I was quickly realizing that undoing the laces in an 18th century dress was a lot more work than working the buttons of a 20th century blouse. However, I wouldn’t trade any comfort in the world for having Jamie by my side, trying to settle our screaming daughter.

Jamie was rocking Brianna up and down, trying to calm her by speaking Gaelic into her ear. The sight, one that up to two months ago I didn’t think I’d ever get the chance to see, brought tears to my eyes, despite the wailing coming from the infant in my husband’s arms.

“I dinna think I’m her favorite person right now.” Jamie spoke as he passed the fussy baby to me.

“I don’t think anyone is her favorite person right now.” I answered sympathetically as I finally freed my breast and got Brianna latching on. “Not unless you have one of these on your body.” I pointed to her food source.

“Aye.” He spoke, laughing.

He sat by my side on the log, reaching his hand to touch my knee.

Brianna started to settle upon finally being fed, and her cries quickly subsided to a heavy sigh every couple of seconds.

“She can hold a grudge then, aye?” Jamie wondered, moving his hand from my knee to caress her forehead, pushing away a strand of red hair.

“She’s a Fraser through and through.” I smiled.

I changed Brianna to the other breast and she nursed quietly. She reached her pudgy hand to touch her father’s gigantic one that was still within reach and grabbed his forefinger, holding it captive as she ate.

“Thank ye for the gift of a child, mo nighean donn.” Jamie spoke softly, kissing my forehead, Brianna still holding his finger.

I closed the distance between us and kissed his lips slowly. He immediately responded, moving slowly his lips over mine.

I placed my hand on his face, feeling the texture of his overgrown facial hair, and touched my forehead with his.

“I love you.” I whispered.

“And I, you.” He replied tenderly, kissing my mouth one more time.

We both knew it wasn’t the right time for a more intimate physical contact. But for the both of us, just being close to the other, was enough for the moment.

Brianna finished with her nursing and started playing with her foot, trying to put it in her mouth.

“Can you hold her for a bit so I can wash?” I asked Jamie as I tied back the laces of my dress.

“Of course.” He answered with a grin, clearly overjoyed to hold his child again.

I placed her in his lap, mindful of his injured arm, and stood up to wash in the river.

Brianna immediately started cooing, happy to be in her father’s arms, and he started responding in Gaelic, the two of them immersed in an unintelligible conversation.

I walked to the edge of the river and kneeled on a large flat rock. I had showered just in the previous morning, but that seemed ages ago.

Since then, I’d travelled through time, been attacked by Black Jack Randall, killed said man, rolled in the dirt and rode for several hours. I felt utterly dirty, not that I’d never been much more dirty before.

I splashed water on my arms, neck and face, feeling instantly refreshed by the cold river water.

I looked behind to check on the two most important people in my life, and smiled at the sight.

Brianna was happily playing with Jamie’s hand, and he had a fixed grin on his face.

I walked back and again sat on the log on the same spot I’d been moments before.

For a moment, I thought Brianna might want to go back to my arms, but she seemed content enough to be where she was.

“What do we do now?” I asked at once.

”We wait for the others to come back.” He replied matter of factly.

”It’s not what I’m talking about.” I huffed. “Ad you know it.”

“Aye. Just a wee joke. Well,” Jamie started, “there’s still the small issue of the price on my head.”

“I’m aware.” I pushed a strand of hair behind my ear.

The moment I’d decided to come back I’d been very much conscious of the fact Jamie would be a wanted man.

The only difference, I had realized, was the reason behind it.

“However, at least this time we don’t have Jack Randall to worry about.” I spoke, sighing with relief.

“Aye.” He agreed. “I still canna believe the bastard can no longer haunt us. And all thanks to my wife.”

I grabbed his hand in mine, caressing it gently, proud stamped on his face.

“However, the price on my head still stands, Claire.” Jamie spoke somberly. “I ken I should do the right thing and leave ye and the bairn safely in Lallybroch with Jenny and Ian, then try to find a way to be released of the charges against me.”  


I immediately turned to stare at him, incredulous of the direction of his thoughts.

“You don’t even think about it, James Fraser.” I looked him in the eye. “I didn’t come all this way to be away from you.”

“Dinna fash, Sassenach.” He kissed my lips softly. “I’m too selfish to be apart from ye.”

“You better. Bad things tend to happen when we’re separated.”

“Aye. They do.” He agreed.

“What’s the plan, then?” I pushed.

“Well, if we head to Leoch, we shouldna raise suspicion and it would be the safest place in Scotland while I am still a wanted man. Dougal kens we are already wed and have a child together. And no one can doubt Brianna’s paternity after seeing her.” He proposed. “Colum won’t be able to question it either. I think the wisest thing to do is get to Leoch, then try to send word for someone in the high ranks in England so I can be pardoned.”

“You have a point.” I said after thinking about it for a moment. “We have to make sure to stay clear of Leoghaire, though.”

“Aye. I ken the lass is already smitten from my time at Leoch when I was a lad, but if she knows from the start I’m a married man and I simply don’t offer her any attention, she might just ignore us.”

I gave a slight nod, thinking about what would wait for us at Leoch. Leogharie had been a real problem the first time around. She’d been the one to send me to the witch trial, pretending Geillis Duncan, the fiscal’s wife, had summoned me to her house. It had obviously been a pretense, and Geillis, having been accused of witchcraft, had been imprisoned, and I along with her.

“Jamie, I’d like to try and help Geillis, if possible.” I murmured before I could think farther on the subject. “I know we haven’t had much luck changing the future. But I’d like to send her some signal that maybe she shouldn’t draw so much attention to herself. I don’t know.” I signed in frustration.

Jamie raised an eyebrow. He had never been much enthusiastic about Geillis Duncan, and he did warn me to stay clear of her the first time. But he also knew she had been the reason I didn’t burn on a stick.

The point was we had no idea what were the limits of trying to change the way things would happen. I’d been able to kill Jack Randall and that would certainly mean change. But whatever else was a huge blank.

“To say we didn’t have much luck changing the future is an understatement, Sassenach. But I ken what you mean.” He took a breath. “Geillis Duncan wasna my favorite person, but she did help set ye free, and for that, I am grateful. Perhaps we can figure out some way to let her know she’s in danger, but without compromising ourselves.”

I intertwined our fingers and brought his hand to my face, kissing the back of his palm.

“There’s also someone else I’d like to get to sooner rather than later, Claire.” Jamie added with a smile.

“Fergus.” I offered, knowing how fond of the boy we both had grown. “I don’t think I’d like to be in France for long. But I want to get our son as soon as possible.”

Jamie closed the short distance between us and pulled my chin up, meeting me with a kiss. Our lips moved together for a few seconds before the sound of hooves caught our attention.

“Och, there are the three of ye!” Murtagh announced their approaching.

“Ye lost all the fun!” Angus mocked with a grin.

“Mmphm. There’s nothing better than staying with my family.” Jamie replied earnestly, kissing the top of Brianna’s head. “Not even a wee fight.”

Angus stared up and down at the three of us, raising an eyebrow.

“I may not be sold on this whole being wed to a Sassenach of yers. But there’s no denying the wee lass is yers for sure.” Angus spoke in a serious tone, perhaps for the first time in his life.

“Aye. The lad now is a family man.” Rupert added with a large grin.

The men all dismounted and took the time to water the horses.

Rupert and Angus took turns making faces at Brianna, who was contentedly sitting in her father’s lap giggling loudly at the duo.

When everyone was ready to go, we mounted the horses once more and headed towards the road that would take us to Leoch.

I leaned back slightly in the saddle, moving closer to Jamie, and smiled to myself. I was in the arms of my husband and he was safe, not having been shot like the first time we’d been near Cocknammon Rock.

Jamie must’ve felt the small change in my demeanor, because he soon kissed my neck and asked, “What is it that has you smiling about, Sassenach?”

I smiled again, feeling absolutely content and safe.

“Perhaps we can make some changes, after all.” I poked the shoulder that would’ve been shot.

I heard a muffled laugh against my hair. “Aye. Perhaps we can.”


End file.
